To Everything There is a Season
by csipal
Summary: Ecclesiastes 3:18 GSR WIP
1. Prologue

**To Everything There is a Season**

_**Summary:**_ ecclesiastes 3:1-8

_Thanks to Marlou and Nessa for being such wonderful betas. They, along with niff, laura27md, Laura Katharine and mossley, have been wonderful sounding boards concerning this story. Boy, how this evolved …_

_Oh, and if anyone is questioning it – I don't own CSI._

* * *

Things were finally falling smoothly into place after a summer of struggles. Grissom didn't get his men back as he requested – that required too much shifting that just didn't mesh with scheduling. The change would have resulted in robbing manpower from either days or swing shift and even he couldn't fault Ecklie's refusal.

That actually didn't upset him as much as he thought it would.

The lab was changing. After Nick's ordeal it seemed as though everyone was just happy to have the chance to work with each other from time to time. Ecklie became surprisingly tolerable. While their views on the priorities of the lab still differed, the battles with him became few and far between. Their example slowly began to trickle down to the rest of the staff and, for the first time in a long while, work was work and not a battlefield.

It wasn't miraculous, this change. Catherine and Sara still had a lingering animosity but apparently called a cease-fire on their tempers. This really meant that they didn't cross paths and avoided each other as much as possible but when they did, they both put on a professional front. They accepted each other's alpha female persona and silently adapted the policy to agree to disagree. The days when they had the chance to become friends had passed them by and mending this particular bridge remained unlikely.

That didn't upset him too much, either.

Sure, ideally he would have loved for his best friend to be friendly with his lover, but she wasn't his best friend anymore. He didn't know if she was a friend, period. The one thing that did upset him was that he felt that over the course of the past year, he'd lost something special. Catherine had been his friend – for years – and he wondered about his part in her change. Was he an enabler to her new-found disposition or was it there all along?

And then there was Sara. Sweet, beautiful Sara.

The day after they unburied Nick, he had shown up on her doorstep and with little preamble, took her mouth with his own. His mortality … her mortality … the fact that he'd never experienced her touch or her taste - those thoughts guided his ready and confident steps. Few words were spoken by mouth but several were spoken through eyes and touch. It was their time – finally – and they weren't going to let it pass.

She welcomed him into her bed that night and they haven't slept apart since.

He and Sara still had issues and there were times that they both wondered if their decision to live together wasn't a little rushed. But they were working through that – some days were a struggle while others were a living fantasy. This relationship was proof to him that things didn't have to be perfect, that love could survive the 'downs' because the 'ups' were so fabulous and worth striving for.

They were going to be late today, but for once he didn't mind. He'd finally realized that there were things more important than being at work on time – or two hours early. Things like waking Sara in the most sensuous ways and silently making love before whispering 'good evening' - or taking a little longer in the shower because having her wash his hair felt oh-so good.

Even moments like the one he was experiencing this second, watching her scrape the burnt crust off the toast she always insisted she had intended to burn in the first place. Her concentration was adorable and he marveled at the way she treated everything in life with such importance. Including him. He had never felt so loved.

Walking up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and planted a kiss just behind her ear. He closed his eyes as his nose buried itself in her tresses, taking in her scent. He could tell she was smiling – he could feel it in his heart.

Nick was due back today and should already be well into his shift when they would arrive. Hopefully he'd be able to snag a few moments with him and see how the counseling went. With Nick back things could begin to get back to normal and he could finally put all the terror and heartache and wrongdoing behind him. This was the real beginning and he felt as though several weights were lifted from him.

Sara on his arm, Nick well and back at work, civility at the workplace and with any luck, a nice juicy case to sink his teeth into – what more could he ask for?

Today was a great day.

_To Be Continued …_


	2. Chapter One

_Thanks to my betas, Marlou and Nessa._

_Thanks to those who have read and reviewed – you guys are amazing. _

_Disclaimer in prologue._

* * *

"What have you got?" she asked sharply, making her way towards Brass. Days like today helped her understand Grissom's aversion to supervisor duties. Cases were piling up, which meant paperwork was piling up and damn … her shift just kept feeling longer and longer.

"Hello to you too, Catherine. Remember when the greeting used to be 'hey Jim' or 'how's it going'? I should've known not to take those days for granted …" he trailed off wistfully.

"You get no sympathy, Jim – I'm tired, our case load doubled overnight and with three hours left of my shift, the last thing I want is a DB."

"I'll put a moratorium on crime, how does that work for ya?" he joked, leading her over to David, who was examining the body.

"Just long enough for me to find the top of my desk, okay. I still want to have a job."

"I hear ya. Here he is. Someone kicked the shit out of him and then shot him – or they shot him them kicked the shit out of him. Whatever. He's a mess."

Catherine winced at the sight of the body, all bruises and blood. "Ouch."

"Hi, Catherine," David said, looking up from the body.

"David. So … what's going on with this?"

"Well, liver temperature indicated that he's been dead about eight to twelve hours. There is a bullet hole here," he pointed to the left temple, "and it exits just below the ear on the other side. He's in pretty bad shape; multiple contusions."

Catherine shook her head as she crouched and opened her case, pulling out a set of gloves and camera. Looking up toward Brass, she asked, "Who reported it?"

"Anonymous call. Some little kid – twelve or thirteen - crying, scared because he wasn't supposed to be that far away from home. Kept asking us not to tell his dad."

"Did you guys get anything from him?"

"He said he didn't touch anything – just that he saw the body and ran. This does look like the primary crime scene. There's lots of disturbance around the body, he's dirty – I guess from the struggle."

Adjusting the camera lens, Catherine snorted in disbelief. There was no way that kid didn't contaminate the scene. She sighed and began documenting the scene, minding David and the body.

"So, uh … Nick's back, huh?" Brass asked, following her movements.

"Yeah."

"How's he doing?"

Catherine dropped the camera to her side and faced him. "I don't know, really. He seems fine but … he just needs time, I think."

"He's a brave guy."

"The bravest," she said. Something caught her eye and she crouched to get a better look. "I have two sets of shoe impressions over here. Could be the perpetrator's – could be the kid's."

Catherine got up and walked back over to the body. "You know, this guy wasn't just beaten up – he was bludgeoned. This kind of damage couldn't have been done by hand. Look, his hands are clean - no defense wounds."

"Who is this guy's enemy? This is pretty excessive, don't you think?"

"Overkill."

* * *

"There he is."

They stood just a few feet outside the A/V lab observing Nick. Watching him scan through video footage, going about his job as usual, was oddly surreal. The last time they saw Nick was in the hospital, sedated and riddled with welts from ant bites. Not too long after that he was sent to Texas and all updates and correspondence were filtered through his parents.

Grissom began to make his way towards the room when he noticed his companion was no longer with him. He turned to see Sara rooted in her spot and her arms crossed over her chest.

"You coming?" Grissom asked, puzzled by her hesitation. All they had talked about for the past week was Nick's return and he knew she was just as anxious as he was.

"Why don't you go on ahead," she said, tipping her head toward the lab, "I'll catch up with him later."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. He probably doesn't want to make this a big deal. We should try to make things as normal as possible, don't you think? I'll see him before he leaves tonight." Shrugging, she rocked back on her heels and continued, "Besides, I know that you've been waiting for this – go see him."

Everyone took Nick's ordeal to heart, but no one – not even himself until just recently – knew the depth of Sara's feelings over it. She had kept those cards close to her chest but finally opened her heart about it when he had woke up one night to find her crying in the bathroom. The balance of her strength and sensitivity was one of her most beautiful traits.

Scanning the hall to make sure the coast was clear, Grissom walked back toward her and swept aside a strand of hair from her forehead. He ignored her warning glare and brushed her worried brow with his thumb. "I love you," he whispered.

Her smile was blinding. It was the same smile she always gave in response to that statement. Those forty-three muscles, used to produce that most beautiful sight, expressed happiness, love and even a hint of surprise. He'd suspected she wasn't told that she was loved much in her life. Now that he had the chance, he would make sure he'd tell her everyday. Telling her in a hallway when anyone could pass by and see him - it was a risk and one he thought he would never take. He hoped she noticed the importance.

Their moment was cut short by a pair of lab techs turning the corner and passing them by in the hall. Grissom's hand quickly retreated and Sara stepped away from him, working on hiding her smirk.

"Yeah." Grinning like a fool, Sara dipped her head and took a few more steps back before turning and making her way to the break room. She was only a few feet away when she tossed over her shoulder, "Same here, Griss."

"Hey man, I thought I heard voices out here," Nick said, coming up beside Grissom to watch Sara walk down the hall.

Nick's appearance surprised him. As much as he wanted things back to the way they were, never did he expect him to look as good – as normal – as he did at this moment. "It's good to have you back, Nick."

"Good to be back. You have no idea how much my mother coddled me."

"Ah, a mother's right."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get me wrong, it was great to be home but I …" Nick broke off nervously and began to show the signs of a man who had seen too much. "There just wasn't any space."

Grissom found it funny that he never once thought what to say to Nick once he came back. He just wanted him _here_. He wanted to see for his own eyes that he was okay. It shamed him that he had no words of comfort and he didn't know if the reason for that was ignorance or selfishness.

Or was he just too busy enjoying his newfound life?

With a nod of his head, Grissom silently asked Nick to walk him to his office and retreated to his old stand-by conversation topic – work.

"What are you working on?" he asked.

"You checking up on me?" Nick countered tersely.

"No."

Nick bowed his head and sighed. "I'm sorry man. I'm on light duty - stuck in the lab – and Ecklie wants me to take my procedure manual with me everywhere I go. I know how to do my job."

"I know you do. Nick, you'll be back in the field soon, I'm sure of it." Grissom knew that words did little to comfort when your competency was in question. He could only hope that Nick was able to prove his ability. In the meanwhile he couldn't fault Ecklie's precautions.

As they approached Grissom's office, Nick slowed down to a stop. "Yeah, I know. Listen, I'm going to head back and finish my work. And uh, thank you, by the way."

"For what?"

"For getting me out of that hole in the ground."

Grissom nodded, not voicing his thanks at Nick for not blowing his brains out before they found him and, not for the first time, wondered if he could have survived that situation. God, it was just too close. Looking at him now, he was reminded of Nick's tape and his worries of disappointment. Second chances were given for a reason.

"Nick … one of my greatest achievements has been the development and growth of my CSIs." It was the closest he could get to telling him how he felt without embarrassing them both and, judging by the appreciation on Nick's face, his message came across clear.

"I'll see you later, Grissom."

"Later, Nick."

Turning, Grissom nearly collided with Catherine as she was exiting his office. "What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you," she answered exasperatedly, following him back into his office.

"What can I do for you, Catherine?" He tried, he really did, but his question carried tiredness and impatience that didn't go unnoticed by her. He knew he upset her with his tone but he still couldn't get over the fact that anytime she came to him, it was for a favor.

"Are you guys busy tonight?" she asked, tapping a folder against her leg.

"Sophia's off, Greg has his B&E from yesterday and until something else comes in, Sara and I are free."

"You want to take one of ours? We've had more cases come in the past couple of days than Warrick and I can handle. The guy that we were borrowing from days went back to his old schedule and with Nick in the lab …"

Grissom cut her off with a wave of his hand. "What have you got?"

"DB. We did the preliminaries - here's the file."

He took the file and immediately began flipping through it. This could be just the kind of case he was hoping for.

"It's pretty brutal. No identification, called in anonymously - he should be on Al's table any moment," Catherine continued.

"We'll get on it."

He looked up at her then. Her mouth was opened as if to speak but then, after a few moments, she closed it with a resigned sigh. Grissom wondered, not for the first time, if they were ever going to be able to mend the rift that had been created.

"Thanks Gil." And with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, she turned and left.

_To Be Continued …_


	3. Chapter Two

_Thanks to Marlou and Nessa for the beta work._

_To the readers – thank you. Your reviews motivate me greatly and are very appreciated._

* * *

She paid attention to detail. That's what she does for a living – that's what she does to live. People tell you things with words, gestures, looks, just as crime scenes tell you things with evidence.

The passing down of this case to the nightshift told Sara that Catherine was feeling the weight of her downsized crew and the responsibilities of being a supervisor. If the past several weeks showed anything, it was that everyone had their limits and the fact that Catherine accepted hers pleased Sara greatly. Several nights she would catch Catherine behind her desk, well after her shift, completing paperwork. She contemplated coming in early on occasion to help out but the extent of their strained relationship held her back. Hopefully he'd be back in the field soon.

Her encounter with Nick earlier wasn't exactly what she had expected but in hindsight, it was what they both needed. She ran into him just after Grissom gave her the location of their crime scene. Not a word was spoken and they simply walked into each other's embrace. Since the team had split, their times together were few and far between and they had lost their connection. That hug was a sign that the true love of friendship would always remain.

The scene in front of her told her little more than what Catherine had documented. While Catherine had been thorough, Sara preferred seeing things with her own eyes. Getting a feel of the location and putting everything into perspective was an important factor but so far her study hadn't produced anything new.

Sara stopped walking and took in her surroundings. They were lucky that the wandering boy found the body so early. The kid's neighborhood was visible from where the body had been found, yet far enough away to prevent the possibility of witnesses. The neighborhood actually looked out of place among the flat lands that led up to the hill she was at now. But that was housing around here – homes crammed into any place they could fit them.

When she turned back to the scene, she bumped into the officer assigned to her.

"Me and my shadow," she muttered, annoyed that Officer Skipper couldn't stay out of her personal space. Since Nick's disappearance the officers' awareness bumped up quite a few notches, which was very comforting and reassuring. However, some just over-compensated.

"What?"

"Nothing," she replied, looking again at the development and then in the other direction, further up the hill. "Why out here?"

"What?" he asked again.

"There has to be plenty of hiding places deeper into the brush, but they killed him here – far enough away from that housing community but close enough to be found by a twelve year old boy."

She took one last look at the scene and then referred to Catherine's pictures. Something wasn't making sense. Sara grabbed her flashlight and kit and began to make her way up the slight path with Skipper not far behind.

"Hey, uh … m'am? What are you doing? Where are you going?" He stumbled in his attempt to keep up. "Wait! Are you going to tell me why we're out here?"

"The shoe impressions, Skippy. We have two sets coming from and leading back to the community. One is probably our guy, the other, judging by the size, belongs to the kid. So where did our vic come from?"

"Not sure, m'am – but it's Skipper."

"What?"

"My name. It's Officer Skipper."

"Right, okay. Sorry," she said distractedly as she reached a small clearing, adjacent to a dirt road. Though the clearing didn't interest her as much as the Jeep parked in it did.

"You think that's his?" Skipper asked.

Sara, shining her flashlight into the interior of the vehicle, ignored the question. It was empty save for the wallet and a pack of cigarettes sitting in passenger seat. Opening the door, she retrieved the wallet and looked inside.

She read the name over and over wondering why she felt like she should know this person.

"Our DB has a name."

After ridding herself of Skippy and putting in a request to have the Jeep towed, Sara found herself in her boss' doorway. The single desk lamp highlighted the features she had become all too familiar with. Clearing her throat, she entered the office.

He looked up and offered her a quick smile. "Hey."

"Hey to you, too." Sara took her seat in front of his desk. "How did the autopsy go?"

Grissom took off his glasses and reclined back in his chair. "Cause of death was the gunshot to the head – no surprise, there. The contusions were caused by a foreign object. There where bits of wood pulled from the wounds."

"So maybe a plank or a bat?" she supplied.

"We still don't have an I.D. I printed him and left them for Jacqui to see if he's in the system. She has quite a few prints to process from Greg's case so she may not have anything till tomorrow."

"I know who he is." Sara smiled teasingly and enjoyed the look of surprise she received.

"You do?"

"Yep. Clark Higgins. Found his vehicle not too far from the scene. You know, that type of violence leads me to believe that it was personal."

"You think he was meeting his killer?"

"Yeah."

Grissom straightened up and replaced his glasses. Glancing at his watch and then back to her, he said, "Shift's almost over and we can't do much more tonight. Why don't you go on home."

"What about you?"

"I'll give this paperwork one more hour and then I'm right behind you."

* * *

Cohabitating. Living together. It's knowing the exact instant that Grissom walks through the door – not just because of the shuffling of his feet or the sound of his keys hitting the table top, but the feel of his presence.

It's feeling your heart come home.

The transition was easier than she thought it would be. After years of living apart she figured they would step on each other's toes one too many times and be done with it. But that didn't happen. They had the normal 'getting to know the real you' issues and their lack of compromising sometimes led to blow-ups. Sharing living space, however, never felt cramped. In fact, the weight of the air was less oppressive with him around. Loneliness had over-stayed its welcome for so long that having another human around was like being able to breathe again. That the human was Grissom made it that much sweeter.

She and Grissom never really spoke of the night he came to her. It was just so oddly natural to have him in her arms and for her to be held by his. Questions and doubts that rose within her had been tamped down by the pleasure of finally having the man she loved offer himself to her. She didn't ask him why she was suddenly worth it, just as she didn't ask herself why she let him love her without explanation – without telling her why she had to hurt for so long.

She loved him, without a doubt, and she knew that deep down she couldn't have turned him away. She just wished that they'd talk about it, but now with things so good, it seemed too late.

Sara could hear him walking down the hall towards their bedroom. When he propped himself against the doorframe she remained on the bed, continuing her task and feigning ignorance of his arrival, allowing him a moment or two of gazing. Things were still new and even Sara had found herself doing her fair share of staring, amazed that they were at this point.

"What are you doing?" He walked to the end of the bed, stopping when his knees touched the edge.

She looked up at him then and raised her brow. "Wow. You weren't kidding when you said you'd try to leave work at the lab," she deadpanned. Lifting the shirt she had in her hand she continued, "This is called folding the laundry."

"Gimme that." He leaned over and quickly snatched the garment, sending a smirk in her direction. Sitting down at the foot of the bed, he began to help her fold.

"Wait, wait – are you sure you know what you're doing? You hang everything - jeans, t-shirts – I'm surprised you don't hang your briefs."

"Have your fun," he said, pointing his finger at her. "It was obviously great insight; you take up all the drawer space."

"Oh shush," she said, leaning over and kissing him softly. She pulled away slowly and smiled. Kissing him had to be her all-time favorite thing to do, well, close to her all-time favorite. "Hi."

"Hi," he whispered back. Glancing at the huge pile of clothing and then back at her, he asked, "Do we really have to do this right now?"

"Yes. I've put it off long enough; it was becoming a mountain."

"So, you want to go in early tomorrow since we really didn't make much progress today? I'd really like to get a move on this case."

"Do you even have to ask?" she asked, nudging him with her foot. Moving a pile of folded laundry, she situated herself beside Grissom. "Um … what do you think about this case?"

Grissom glanced at her, seeing that there was more to the question. "What's on your mind?"

"The victim. That name didn't sound familiar to you, did it?"

"Clark Higgins? No. Why? Does it mean something to you?"

"I just … I think I know the name, but I can't place it." Getting up to put away the clothes, she shook her head and tried to brush it off. "It's nothing – just nagging me, that's all."

Grissom rose and took her arm. "Hold on – do you think it's someone you know?"

"No," Sara replied, confused by the change in his tone.

"Are you sure, because if you know him-"

"I don't know him - I've never seen him before." The doubtful look on his face angered her and she turned from him, pulling away from his grasp. "I don't believe this - if I knew him, I would tell you. I wouldn't compromise the case or you – you know that."

"I was just making sure."

"No, you didn't trust me to be honest with you," she tossed over her shoulder, slamming the dresser drawers with a little more force than necessary.

"You know why I had to ask, Sara. We can't risk you having a personal involvement with the case. I know that things have gotten better, but your footing with Ecklie is still precarious," he stated, tentatively. "And then there's us."

"Us?" she asked incredulously, spinning around to face him.

"We need to be careful and keep our noses clean until we're ready to go public."

"No. You don't get to touch me in the middle of the lab, tell me you love me - where anyone could hear - and then turn around and use our relationship as an excuse for not taking what I say at face value."

Though it was the truth, she regretted those words once the effect of them settled on his features. She knew that it took a lot for him to reach out to her at work and she just threw it right back in face.

"Griss-"

"I'm trying to protect us – protect you. I can't have another situation where a CSI is personally involved in a case. Both the sheriff and Ecklie are still upset over Catherine's connection in the Granger case that involved that guy she met in a bar."

"As are you." Sara softened her tone. "You haven't spoken to her, non case related, in months."

"Since when have you cared about my friendship with Catherine?" he snapped.

Trying to diffuse the argument, she took his hand and stroked it with her thumb. "If it involves you, I care."

"I just want to make sure our bases are covered, honey," he said, bringing his other hand up to cup her face.

"I know."

Sara watched as he sighed, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. It still surprised her to witness emotions that he'd kept hidden for so long.

He lowered his head and brushed his lips against her temple. "I hate it when we do this."

"Why?" she asked, innocently. "We're so good at it."

"We're good at other things, too," he said, pulling her closer and burying his face in her neck.

"That we are." She wrapped her arms around his waist and savored the feel of his warm breath against her neck. "Let's just stick with the 'other things' then."

_To Be Continued ..._


	4. Chapter Three

Thanks to Laura Katharine who stepped up to the plate and played beta for me!

Sorry this took awhile to post. Too busy lately. Kids and summer equal little time to write. I hope to not go this long between updates again.

* * *

Even though it was in the name of investigation, Grissom still had a slight problem rummaging through another person's belongings. It didn't bother him with suspects as much as it did with the victims. It wasn't typical that people asked to become victims. They don't ask to have their lives violated and searched through with a fine tooth comb. As he searched through Clark Higgins' desk drawer, he wondered what Higgins would have thought about this invasion. They search for answers, for justice, but Grissom knew that he himself would be mortified if his home was studied by knowing, prying eyes. He'd been afraid of people seeing the real him – a man too consumed in work and the lives of others to have a life of his own. He used to be terrified that his colleagues would discover that he wasn't as fearless or indifferent as they'd thought – that his biggest weakness was loving too much and losing.

Things were different now but he was still a man with a secret. Sara. His heart wanted to make it public, but his head wanted it to remain under wraps – away from work, from Ecklie, from judging eyes who would think that he was way too old and that she was way too impulsive and attracted to authority figures. This secret couldn't last forever and he wondered how long they had before they were discovered. He wondered why the thought of it unsettled him even though he had never been this happy.

He looked over at Sara as she stood from her crouching position and walked over to her kit to reload her camera. She glanced at him before she resumed taking pictures and gave him a quick smile. Even her smile held a secret. _He could have both his job and her, right? This wasn't just a fantasy kept pure by the exclusion of the real world, was it?_

So far they had been able to not let their home life interfere with their work, but the same couldn't be said about keeping work from home. They had tried, but being the workaholics they were, they hadn't found that balance. Their earlier argument was still fresh in his mind and for the life of him, he couldn't understand how it turned into a matter of trust. He just didn't want them to be in a situation that they couldn't work their way out of. Not for the first time, he wished he could be as sure as she seemed to be.

"It looks like he lived alone. One set of dishes, one toothbrush." Sara moved the couch cushion and found another random pair of men's underwear. She grimaced, replaced the cushion and turned back toward Grissom. "This place is definitely lacking a feminine touch."

"I'd say it's lacking any kind of touch." Grissom replaced the contents in the drawer and shut it swiftly; disappointed with the lack of anything probative. Pulling open another drawer, he sent a wry smirk in her direction. "Not all single men live like slobs – I didn't."

"True."

"Here we go - I found his bank statements."

Sara settled herself against the desk, looking over his shoulder. "Anything interesting?"

"No. He wasn't broke by any means – seemed like he managed his money well."

Grissom handed the statements to Sara and looked around the apartment. "What's missing here? This guy's bank account contradicts his home."

Sara dropped the papers on the desk and walked the perimeter of the living room. The walls were barren and with the exception of a few books, there was nothing that hinted to the type of person he was. The furniture was nice but the place lacked any sort of personality. "Identity. There aren't any pictures or albums. The landlord said that he's been living here for just a few weeks and we haven't been able to secure a place of employment – he could've been still settling in or just didn't need or want anything more than the necessities."

"Food, clothes, a roof over his head – the simple life?" Grissom supplied.

"And love … respect. Sometimes that's all people need."

Grissom hated moments like this - moments where you question if there was a double-meaning to a person's statement. He knew that he'd been guilty of the same thing in the past but was always aware that Sara was better at it. Clearing his throat, he turned back to the desk and collected the statements. "Love and respect – you kind of take away the 'simple' when you add those elements."

"He was murdered – I don't think his life was that simple. Besides, would you really want 'simple' if it meant leaving out those elements?"

With a heavy sigh Grissom leaned against the desk and ran a weary hand over his face, bringing the topic back to work. "He didn't leave us much to go on did he?"

He watched as Sara ignored the question and left for the kitchen. _Yeah, definitely not simple._ Grissom followed her into the kitchen and began to search the cabinets while she rummaged through the trash.

"Hey, I found some receipts."

"How old?" Grissom asked over his shoulder.

"All of them dated last week. He bought a pack of cigarettes, a hot dog and a beer three days straight." Sara stepped up and handed him the receipts. "Look at the address."

"This gas station is minutes from the crime scene, just outside that housing community."

Sara nodded, turning her head to face him directly and giving him a satisfied smile. "I know."

Grissom finally felt as though they were getting somewhere. "We're going to have to go door-to-door in the morning. Somebody there knows something."

"And maybe we'll find the kid that called it in – he may have seen more than he realized."

As they entered the lab, Sara began to question the reason for his silence. The drive over she'd been thinking mostly about the case and assumed that it was also on the forefront of Grissom's mind. When she'd brought up the receipts and how they should see if anyone at the gas station recognized their vic, he had turn his head in surprise, taking a moment too longto catch up. It was obvious that his thoughts weren't anywhere close to the case.

Did he really crave simplicity so much that he'd forsake love? Was that what held him back for so long? She shook her head and sighed at the sadness of it. Even if that was one of the reasons, he would never talk to her about it.

"I know this wonderful spot in the break-room."

His statement came out of nowhere. Confused, Sara stopped walking and scrunched her face. "Huh?"

"Yep. The privacy is lacking and the ambiance is even less desirable."

His head was in a file and his tone seemed nonchalant, but Sara knew better. He always wanted things to be right between them - and so did she – she just preferred not to sweep every problem under the rug. Maybe she was focusing too much on this; maybe she should let it go. "I've heard about that spot."

Grissom lifted his eyes and his slight smile revealed his pleasure over her playing along. "Rumor has it that since a certain lab tech got promoted, the coffee has improved tremendously, and I happen to know that there is enough egg salad for two in the fridge."

"Yeah, I know – I made that egg salad this afternoon," she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall.

"We may have to check this place out." He spoke in total seriousness but the gleam in his eyes exhibited the playfulness of the moment. She was helpless against that look and smiled in return.

"I agree." As soon as the words left her mouth, Grissom's beeper chirped to life, making its presence known. "Duty calls?"

"It's Jacqui. Listen, you go ahead and eat – I'll grab some later. Afterwards, look over the bank statements again; go back as far as you can and see if we can find out more about our vic. I promised Greg a little help on his case so if you need me -"

"I'll find you," she said, waving him off.

When she turned toward the break-room, Sara caught a glimpse of Catherine, staring at her from behind her desk across the hall. From the looks of it, Catherine overheard their conversation.

Sara had no idea why she walked across the hall - or why she asked to come in - but as she sat down across from Catherine, she realized that this may be the chance to set things right.

Catherine leaned back and gave a tired sigh. "I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Thank you." Sara pursed her lips and nodded, at a loss as how to continue. She decided that the best course of action was to bite the bullet. "You uh … wanna share a coffee?"

"Seriously, I won't tell. I know how … private Gil is. I wouldn't betray him like that."

"I know. I wasn't asking because of that." Sara twitched in her chair and was slightly comforted by the fact that Catherine seemed just as unsettled. How could two intelligent women such as themselves not make it through a simple conversation? "You're here pretty late. I know that things have been busy but I, uh … I just thought you could use the break."

Catherine didn't answer immediately – instead, she studied Sara with narrow but curious eyes. Sara couldn't blame her for her hesitation for she knew that she would be just as wary.

Sara blinked in surprise when Catherine rose and pushed her chair in. "I'm hungry, too. I hear you have some egg salad."

"I do – enough for two. You in?" Sara asked, following her down the hall and wondering if a truce between them could really be this easy.

"What about Gil?"

"He was being nice – he hates my egg salad."

And for the first time in ages, the two women shared a laugh.

* * *

"You paged?"

Jacqui looked up from the table and gave Grissom a quick nod. "I did. I ran the prints for your John Doe – didn't find a name. I -"

Grissom nodded and cut her off with a wave of his hand. "We have a name – hoping that he was in the system was a long shot. Thanks anyway."

"Wait, we did get a hit."

"You did?" Grissom asked, settling in beside Jacqui at her computer station.

"It came back as an unidentified print of interest in an unsolved case. The file has been purged, but I did get the case number and the CSI assigned to it for you," she said, handing the printout to Grissom. "I hope this helps with your case."

"Thanks Jacqui."

Grissom's attention quickly went to the page in front of him and he wondered why he was filled with a sense of dread over an unsolved case. He tried telling himself that the reason wasn't because it was Sara's.

_To Be Continued …_


	5. Chapter Four

Thanks to Nessa and laura27md for the beta and to niff and Laura Katharine who also read this over. And to those who read and review– thank you– you're awesome!

* * *

"Hmph."

She was quick and skillful and she took his breath away – quite literally. In the past his fantasies consisted of him no longer being able to reserve his attraction and attacking Sara; on the bed, over a desk, in the front seat of the Denali. Not once did he entertain the idea that the opposite was a fantasy of hers and that she would ever act upon it. The fact that she was waiting for him at home with the intent of pinning him up against the wall and performing wonderful acts with her mouth, left him speechless and highly aroused. His keys and the file to Sara's old case dropped to the ground – there would be time to discuss that later.

Regretfully pulling his mouth away, he rested his forehead against hers and took a few deep breaths. "Not that I'm complaining, but I thought that we were going to have a quick breakfast and then head out to question the neighbors."

"Brass couldn't reach you so he called my cell." Sara slid his jacket off his shoulders. Stopping at his elbows, she pulled him to her, effectively trapping his arms. "Apparently, they won't have an officer available for us until this afternoon."

"Really?"

"Yeah. So unless you still want 'quick', I would rather do this slowly," she whispered against the skin of his neck as she navigated him over to sit on their couch.

"Slow is very good. You … are in a better mood." Grissom winced, worried that his comment would break this wonderful spell but one look at her understanding smile put him at ease.

"I ended up having a good night."

Flashing an amused grin, he helped her discard his jacket. "Going over bank statements does something for you, huh?"

"Nah, I just had a good lunch break."

"The lunch break I had to bail out on?"

Sara slowly unbuttoned his shirt, her lips following the path her hand created. "Yep."

"Should I be worried that you had such a good time without me?" he asked breathlessly, his fingers twisting and twining through her tresses.

"Not at all. I shared my lunch with Catherine."

"You did?"

"Yeah. And not one snide comment escaped our lips." She slowly slid up his body and Grissom let out an involuntary groan as she straddled his lap, her crotch putting pressure against his own arousal.

"Mmm. Impressed."

They spent long moments exploring each other with their experienced hands and mouths and loving how even though their bodies weren't foreign to this, their hearts still fluttered like it was the first time.

Sara abruptly pulled away with a soft gasp and worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "There is one thing, though."

"That doesn't sound good."

"Well that depends on you, actually." His mind soared though the possibilities as he watched her avert her eyes and then absently play with his beard - he knew he wouldn't like what she was about to say. "She knows about us."

This was something that he wasn't prepared for. The fact that she and Catherine seemed to be mending fences pleased him more than she would ever know but picturing them discussing his relationship with Sara made his stomach drop. "You told her?"

Her eyes snapped up at his question and for a moment their expressions were mirrors of hurt. "No, no. She, uh, overheard us in the hall. Are you okay with that?"

"I don't have a choice but to be okay with it," he sighed, resting his head against the back of the couch.

"She's not going to say anything."

"I can only hope. I'm sure she had plenty to say about it." The disdain in his voice was undeniable and the first thing that came to mind was his answer to Catherine's question if it was a crime to want human contact. He'd told her that is why he doesn't go out and he could almost picture her right now with her face twisted in accusation rather than amusement. _"No Gil, you just stay in."  
_  
"She didn't say it, but I think that she's happy for us. I also think that she may be a little hurt that she didn't find out from you."

"We weren't telling people, Sara."

She sat up straighter then and cocked her brow, giving him a doubtful smirk. "But if we were, would you tell her?"

"Sara … things have happened. Out of fairness to Catherine, I'm not going into it, but it wasn't just the Granger case. Things have been adding up and … after awhile it felt as though my friendship was betrayed."

"Okay. It's just that I know it upsets you."

"You're right, it does. Things have gotten better but I miss her friendship." While most of the sadness that weighed on his heart lifted the moment his lips first touched Sara's, the loss of his friend still left him incomplete. He wondered if there would ever be a moment when he could say that he was happy with every aspect of his life. That thought was quickly banished as he knew life could never be that perfect.

"How do you think you could get it back?"

"Listen, I'm glad that the two of you were able to set your differences aside but … I'm just not in that place. There will be a time for that – just not right now."

"I'm not asking you to be someone you're not; I just want you to know that she's hurting too. Sometimes it's hard to see someone else's pain through your own."

The truth of that statement rocked him to his core. Many times he'd witnessed Sara's pain, but how much of that did he turn a blind eye to in the effort of sparing his own heart?

"I'll keep that in mind." And he would, because he owed it to her and to himself - and maybe even to Catherine. He chuckled as he took in their appearance. Her hair was wild and beautiful and her lips were swollen from the kisses they'd shared just a few minutes ago. As much as he loved her, he would have to talk with Sara about her version of pillow talk. Catherine – or anyone else for that matter – should never be brought up in times like this.

Grissom pulled her closer to his chest and furrowed his brow. "You know what I don't understand?"

"What?"

"Why we're both still dressed. And on top of that, I find it quite disturbing that we got sidetracked."

She stood, ignoring Grissom's grunt of disappointment and swiftly pulled her shirt over her head. "Did you get sidetracked?" Cocking her head to the side, she offered him an amused smirk. "I didn't get sidetracked."

"You are the one who sidetracked us," Grissom whispered, watching in awe as she shimmied out of her jeans – the slight wiggle of her hips was nearly his undoing.

"Nah, I was just pacing us." The salacious wink and the manner in which she removed her bra left him wide-eyed and anxious.

"Huh. We need p-pacing?" Did he just stutter? How in the world does she manage to turn him into a puddle of goo with so little effort?

Chuckling, she flung her lacy thongs into his face. "Today we do."

She took over as their bodies joined in a hungry, frantic dance. There was excitement and need and want and so much love poured into every touch – every thrust. When their eyes met they knew exactly what they were doing. They were making love.

Sleep was hard to come by for Sara that morning and she cursed the fact she wouldn't have time for a nap later. She snuggled up to Grissom's sleepy form, hoping that just by sheer will alone she could fall asleep. After another twenty minutes of tossing and turning she gave up and retreated to the living room to watch television.

The sight that greeted her brought a proud smile to her face. Her clothes – and his – were recklessly scattered about the living room and she could almost see the morning's events play out right before her eyes. She always wondered about his passion – what he would be like once he finally let go. Sharing herself with him and receiving what he had to give in return exceeded every expectation.

His reaction to Catherine knowing about them was what she'd expected. He was upset but he would have to get over it – it was their fault anyway. They were careless about their conversation last night and their flirting was just a little too comfortable and telling. He should be happy that it was Catherine and not Ecklie or someone else who would take pleasure in having the upper hand. They would come clean eventually – when Grissom was comfortable with it. She just hoped that he knew the longer they waited, the less likely the chance their 'outing' would be on their terms.

She turned on the television, settling on CNN for background noise and began to clean up their mess. Following the trail of clothing, she spotted his keys and a file in front of the door. Sara tucked the file under her arm and deposited the dirty laundry and the keys in their respective places and was about the place the file on his desk when something caught her eye.

The printout attached to the file was the AFIS results from their current case. "He was in the system after all and … apparently more than that," she said to herself, noticing his print came up as an unidentified match from a cold case. Flipping the file open, Sara recognized the old case immediately – she hated not being able to solve a case but this one was a sore subject with her.  
_  
_**Case # 001254SS Smart, Ryan. Status: UNSOLVED**

_"Uh, listen, I recognize the importance of this, but I'm in the middle of my own homicide investigation."_

_"I'll talk to your detective. Explain the deal."_

_"Well, it's not about the detective. It's about my own responsibility."_

_"I'm handing out assignments, Sara. It's not a negotiation."_

**Case closed due to insufficient and inconclusive evidence.  
**_  
"You know what pisses me off?"_

_"Lots of things."_

_"Victims aren't equal. High profile cases get priority."_

_"A ticking clock gets priority."_

_"Every case is a ticking clock. The only difference between a cold case and a hot case is time."_

_"I don't care if you're working on the hottest case of your career. If your supervisor tells you to leave a scene to go wash his car, you do it. You don't have a career without a job."_

Sara sat back and rubbed her hands over her face. They had worked as a team and solved Warrick's case. That type of group effort always gave her a rush, but this one was different. She would never know if that time away from her case had been detrimental or not but what she did find out was that her respect for Grissom, and Nick, at that time had its limits. It was a hard lesson and she spent the majority of that year learning it. Shaking her head to rid herself of the memories of the past, Sara closed the file and placed it on his desk. She knew she wasn't going to sleep now.

* * *

Grissom woke up to an empty bed and an empty home. The living room was clean and all signs of their morning tryst had been cleared away. She was allowed to come and go as she pleased – it was her home, too – but she never left without saying something. It was then that he saw it; a sticky note placed atop the case file he brought home.

_Gone for a run._

_S._

_To Be Continued ..._


End file.
